Three Left O'Neal
by Jean-Moddalle
Summary: just a introduction to my newsie. i want to thank Anjion for beta reading. any and all mistakes are mine i only own 'Three Left'. r&r and enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

The small form in the bottom bunk was breathing irregularly. Swifty the Rake had been assigned to look after him, and he was worried. The boy had been in the lodging house for five days now, and he hadn't stopped bleeding. It had slowed down a lot, but it hadn't stopped, and Swifty had to change his bandages every four to five hours.

The walking mouth had found him, exhausted and bleeding, and had only just managed to catch him as he slumped to the ground. Someone had beaten this little kid to a pulp, and once the boys found out who, they would pay for it dearly. No matter who they were.

At least the boy would wake up every now and then. (Kloppman, who watched him during the day, kept the other boys updated.)

Sixteen days later:

As soon as Swifty had returned to the lodging house, Kloppman stopped him and smiled at him.

"Harrison is awake, and no longer bleeding," he said softly. "He even walked a few yards."

"Who's Harrison?" Swifty asked, confused. Then it dawned on him, and a huge grin spread across his face as he ran upstairs.

The boy - Harrison - was sitting in a chair and talking with Boots.

"Hey Boots!" Swifty greeted cheerfully before turning towards Harrison.

"I see you are doing much better," he remarked in a friendly tone. The boy didnt reply; he just smiled coldly and nodded.

And that's when Swifty saw it; Harrison wasn't scared, not even a little anxious. Swifty remembered that when He first got in the lodging house, he was scared shitless. And every newcomer after him had been the same, but not this kid.

And before he knew it he had asked.  
"Why aren't you afraid?"

"A result of the beating, I guess," Harrison answered. "I should be afraid of all of you, but I aint." But don't worry," he said quickly. ''I am still angry at whoever did this to me, and I am still thankful for all of you guys.''

That's when Mister Kloppman hollered, ''Boys! Dinnertime! And bring Harrison with you."

''Do you think you'ill be able to keep it down?'' Boots asked the boy, frowning.

 ** _''Tá, Seo linn!''_** Harrison said, as he stood up. Seeing the confusion on the faces of the other boys, he explained, "That means yes. Let's go! **"**

Dinner was very loud as always. Harrison, who was left handed, had trouble holding his knife as he only had three fingers. One of the boys helped him secure the knife to his hand with a rubber band.

''Three Left'' Kid Blink said out of nowhere.  
''We are going to call you Three Left!''

The other boys cheered so loudly that Mr Kloppman came in to see what was happening.

 ** _''Go raibh maith agaibh''_** Harrison said before he took another bite **.**

The room fell silent and he looked up. ''It means thank you," he said with a smile.

 **'** 'You'ill be starting work tomorrow.'' Swifty said. ''We'ill be selling partners, you and me.''

the next morning:

mr Andrews of the distribution centre greeted him with a smile.

''welcome young man, how do they call you? I am mister Andrews.''

''i am Three Left.'' Harrison said while putting half a dollar down. ''what can i get for this?'' he asked.

''throw in ten more pence, and you'ill get hundred papes.''

Harrison grabbed his coin and turned around when Jack stopped him. Showing him two five pence coins.

''pay me back when you can.'' he whispered.

A few minutes later Swifty and Three Left, walked to their spot.

Around 11:00 they entered Tibby's.

''Hey Three Left, how did you're first day go?''

Boots asked.

 _''chuaigh sé go maith''_ the boy awnsered smiling

From ear to ear.

None of them needed a translation, it went very well.

Newsies came and left. After a few hours they went back to the distribution centre, for the evening edition.

As they returned to the lodging house after a disapointing late afternoon of very few sales and no profit to speak of. Harrison sat down for diner in a sour mood.

 _''_ _Chuaigh sé Uafásach!''_ he grumbled ''bad sale?'' Tumbler asked softly. he didn't like the irish boy at all, since he himself was brittish, and the feeling was mutual. Still they were both under the same banner, and they would give the other the shirt of their back if they needed to.

''We made next to nothing tonight.'' Three Left said

''and i am still in debt with mister Kelly, how am i goin' to pay for me lodging? Or me supper?'' he said on the verge of tears.

''First of, he's called Jack, and he told you to pay him back when you can. As long as you are honest about it, you'ill be fine.''

after this Tumbler hugged him and went back to his seat

''I thought you didnt like him.'' Skittery said.

''I dont'' Tumbler said. ''But he needed a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on, he's still a newsie you know.''

Skittery hugged him ''I am so proud of you'' he said.

After supper most of the older boys went to thier usual card and dice games.

The younger ones played marbles except for boots who loved reading.

And after a long tiring day Harrison was happy to be in bed, and he was asleep almost instantly.

At 01:00 he awoke from a nightmare to Swifty gently shaking him within two minutes he was sleeping a dreamless sleep.

The next morning he awoke, well rested. For the first time since he got to the lodging house, he wasn't sore.

It was a cold morning, but Harrison didn't mind. At least it wasn't raining. he was happy, despite everything. And after taking a deep breath, he walked happily whistling, toward the distribution centre.

Today was going to be a great day. He just knew it would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

The dark figure stood over his father and said ''You cost me a lot of money, you Irish dog.'' With that the man stabbed Three Left's father, took the cashbox and left.

Three Left woke up with a scream and Swifty was by his side before he blinked twice. These nightmares were a common thing now, and Three Left absolutely hated it. It made him feel so weak, so unsafe. Swifty let him cry into his chest. This way he calmed down without disturbing any of the other boys.

Three Left just cried in the older boy's chest; it made him feel safe again. And then usually Mister Kloppman would wake them up, and shortly thereafter they would all be out selling.

It was kind of a dull routine, but it worked.  
Outside it was raining hard, as in thunder storm hard.

Three Left saw the other boys getting ready. Except for Tumbler, who was white as a sheet and shivering.  
Seeing this, Three Left grabbed a mug, filled it with water, and brought it over to the other boy.

Tumbler looked up at him and smiled gratefully. "Thanks," he mouthed, before taking a sip.

Three Left nodded before turning around to get ready himself; Skitts would take it from here. Swifty smiled at him in approval, and Skittery petted his shoulder. Three Left felt good. He had lost one family but had gained another. He was finally home. With that he followed Swifty outside.

"I am so glad that you two at least try to get along," Swifty said, ruffling his hair.

Three Left sighed. "It's no secret, that we dislike each other," he said. "But us newsies have to stick together, you can't choose you're family."

Selling went surprisingly well that morning.  
Standing on a small crate, Three Left auctioned off his papes like his father used to do with art and antiques. and was soon heading off to shelter in the small shop behind his track

With the rain outside, Tibby's business was doing well today, and the place was overcrowded with rowdy boys.

Three Left, however, was sharing a cup of tea and a conversation with Mister Barone, who worked in the shop behind his selling spot.

After saying his goodbyes, Three Left went to the distribution centre so he could sell the evening edition. He could use a little extra pocket money, and about two hours later he sold back the remaining five papers out of thirty.

Back at the lodge, Kloppman had made a simple broth. It wasn't much, but it was filling. At least mister Kloppman knew how to cook a meal, even if it sometimes didn't have alot of taste. And after a day of hard work in the pouring rain, it tasted like a meal fit for kings. Dinner was loud: Three Left was talking with Mush and Snipeshooter, who were talking about Spot Conlon. Both boys shuddered at the thought of Spot, while Three Left raised his eyebrows.

"Mister Conlon doesn't scare me, so what is it with you guys?" he asked both boys.

"That's because you have no fear; that soaking cost you your sense of caution," Snipeshooter stated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," Mush joined in, "Spot don't scares ya cos youse aint scared of nothin'. "

Three Left just shrugged.

That night, after lights out, he went swiftly off to the land of dreams.

Around 5:45 he jolted awake. After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he went to the roof to look at the dark silhouette of the city.  
He jumped as someone tapped his shoulder.

"Mister Higgins!" He let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding as he recognised the other boy.

Racetrack laughed a little.  
"Couldn't sleep either, huh kiddo?"

Three Left shook his head.  
"No sir," he said.

"Nightmare?" It wasn't really a question.  
"And its Racetrack."

"This time he shot them," he simply stated.

Racetrack looked at him. Three Left's cold demeanour had all the older boys worried about him. It just couldn't be healthy.

"You want to talk about it?" Racetrack asked.  
Three Left lit his pipe and and took a drag before answering. Then he started to speak of the man haunting his dreams and how he was probably a disgruntled costumer of his father. And how his mom had not been stabbed, but pushed down the stairwell. so he didn't understand that part of his dream.

He also didn't understand why he had shot them this time. It all just confused him.

After that, the first thing he remembered was being in the lodge.

Racetrack nodded in understanding as the narrative ended.

"It hurts, you know?" the other boy continued in a sort of half growl. "I can still feel them." He raised his three remaining fingers.

Racetrack held the door open for him.  
"You want to catch some shut-eye?" he asked calmly.

Three Left shot him a glare.

Racetrack crawled into his bunk.  
"Sorry kid, I can't help you with that. Sweet dreams."

And soon, both of them were fast asleep.

The following day was a sunday.

For most people, this meant attending the church service and enjoying a day off.

Newsies however still had to pay for their lodging, and therefore they had to carry the banner.

The sunday edition was a tricky one, because some people didn't buy on sunday.

Those people would give you an angry look, wherever they saw you.

Luckily, there were those who gave you a nickel, and told you to keep the change.

Profit-wise however, sundays where about the same as any other day: a struggle to survive.

After selling he nipped on his walnut wooden pipe.

He almost smiled on a regular basis.

so it wasn't going that bad.

Happily smoking he walked towards Duane street.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three.**

Spot Conlon had traveled to Manhatten to discuss some borough related business with Jack.

All of the younger boys shrunk away in fear at his entrance; that is, all but one of them did. That single one just looked him up and down and shrugged, and with a casual "Hello mister Conlon," he went back to cleaning his pipe.

Spot grinned at him; at least the lad was polite.  
Still, he decided to ask Jack about the apparently fearless boy.

After hearing the story, of the boys soaking.

He vowed that his boys would be also looking for whoever did that to the younger boy. And when they did, they would rough him up and then surrender him to Manhatten.

Jack laughed and agreed wholeheartly.  
"He is incapable of fear, Spot," he said seriously.

"I have noticed that, Jacky boy," Spot responded as he played with the gold tip of his cane.  
"It's gonna get him killed one day."

"I know that, Spot," Jack murmured sadly. "Anything we can do for him?"

Spot scratched his head. After a moment of thinking, he finally looked right into Jack's eyes.  
"All you can do is keep a very close eye on him,"  
he said seriously.

Jack and Spot continued their meeting, after which Spot went back to Brooklyn.

"Three Left, we need to talk; you got a minute?" Jack asked as he entered the bunkroom.

The younger boy put away his pipe cleaning kit, and turned to his leader. "Yes mister Kelly, what can I do for you?"

Jack smiled. The kid was so polite, that if they cleaned him up and put him in a nice suit, nobody would know he was a newsie.

Outside of their sleeping quarters, Jack started to explain that they (the older boys) would be keeping a close eye on him from now on, since his lack of fear could get him hurt.

Without saying a word, Three Left speed walked out of the building, before anyone could stop him.

He was fuming. Why didn't the older boys trust him?  
Sure, he was small for his age, and he was no fighter by any definition of the word. Although he did have a nasty right hook.

A loud voice followed by the sound of a carriage screeching to a halt pulled him back into reality.  
"Oh, well that's going to suck," was the only thought in his head as the horse knocked him off his feet and onto the street. He heard a lot of yelling, and then his vision faded to black.

When he woke up, he had a massive headache, the morphine didn't seem to lessen.

After either a long or a short while, (the young boy had no idear which one) he heard: "young man," whoever this was they were very direct "my name is doctor Dalton, and judging by the way you are dressed, i asume you are a newsie."

"what happened?" he asked. Wincing as he tried to move into a more comfortable position.

"you got hit by a horse," the doctor said

"your knee is badly bruised, you sprained your wrist, and you have a concussion. You're going to be staying in the hospital for about 10 days. Any questions?"

"subtlety clearly is not in this mans dictionary."

Three Left thought before speaking again,albeit sleepily.

"can you inform mister Kloppman of my whereabouts" he asked.

The doctor nodded and walked out.

Jack stormed into the room shortly after.

"and this," he hissed in a rushed voice."is why we have to watch you."

Three Left turned away from him. Not because he didn't understand. But because he was to stubborn, to admit that he did.

"Harrison! Look at me when i am talking to you."

Jack said in a stern voice. His concern made his voice much harsher the he intended.

When the younger boy ignored his request, he grabbed his shoulder and forced his newsie

to look at him.

"i would expect this kind of behaviour from some of the other boys," he started, lifting Three Left's chin up.

"but you were raised differently, what would your dad do in this situation?"

Three Left shuddered at the thought.

"he would have taken his belt of." he replied coldly.

Jack nodded slowly. "yeah, that ain't gonna happen with me, i dont lay my hands on my boys. Besides you're already in the hospital, i think that is punishment enough. Get better soon." he said before leaving the room.

the next morning, doctor Dalton came in to check on him. "how are you feeling?" he asked.

"better" the young boy croaked in a hoarse voice.

"my headache is as good as gone."

"that's good." the doctor replied, with a raised eyebrow, and a knowing look on his face. The man scribbled some things on his chart, "oh by the way, one of your friends dropped this of for you." he said

before handing him a home made card.

It was clearly made out of a piece of cardboard box,  
but every single one of the boys - yes, even Tumbler - had written their names upon it. And Three Left absolutely loved it.

During his stay, he was fed (which he disliked),  
and he was bathed (which he absolutely hated).  
But things soon improved and he was soon able to feed himself again. And after 5 days, he was up and starting to walk again with the help of a stick. This didn't go very well at first, but he was at least glad to have regained at least some of his independence.

When he finally got out, he had to walk all the way to Manhatten. Luckily, he still had his stick, as his knee wouldn't work properly for a while.

The night staff were especially glad to see him walk out of there, since he had kept them very busy with his nightmares.

When he found Swifty, he was out selling with another boy, who introduced himself as 'Frank'. But he didn't stay long and as soon as he had collected his share of the money, he left.

Swifty told Three Left that Frank was a butcher's apprentice who had been kicked out of his job.  
Another butcher had offered him a similar job and Frank was going to see if it was still open.

Dinner, which was a porridge, was as loud as always.  
After dinner, he was instructed to go to bed, and the other boys were told, in no uncertain terms, to keep the noise down.

he did have a decent night of sleep. No nightmares plagued his dreams. No, he had a pleasant but very strange dream about a huge pile of leaves.

The next morning, he was of to work again,

injuries meant extra profit after all.

Profit-wise, it went well that day.


End file.
